by Dilly Court
‘You’ve worked miracles,’ Ginnie said, grinning. ‘You’ve charmed Mum all right.’
‘We had a heart to heart.’ Laurence pushed his plate away. ‘I’m afraid I can’t eat the last bit of toast. Perhaps the birds will get some breakfast after all.’
Ginnie leaned towards him. ‘And you’re all right about the baby?’
‘How can I not be? It’s mine and there’s no question about it this time, but because they’ve discharged me from the Navy as being medically unfit I’m not in a position to keep a wife and family.’
‘That’s hardly your fault. What happens next?’
‘I’ve got to see a specialist and have more tests. I’m afraid I might be very sick, and who’s going to look after Shirley and the children?’
‘When do you see the specialist? Did they make an appointment for you?’
He shook his head. ‘I can’t afford it, Ginnie. I should get a small pension from the Navy, but that might take months to come through. I just don’t know what I’m going to do.’
‘If it’s a question of money, couldn’t you ask your father? I’m sure he’d help.’
‘Are you? Then you don’t know him as I do.’
‘How much would it cost?’
‘I don’t know but I doubt if you’d get much change from twenty guineas.’
‘Then you’ll have to go to see your father. You’ve got Shirley and the babies to think of now. If you won’t speak to Mr Mallory, then I will.’
An hour later she was standing outside Mallory’s chambers, waiting for the clerk to open the door. Her knees seemed to have the consistency of two jellies and her mouth was so dry that her tongue felt as though it was sticking to her teeth, but she was determined to do this thing for Shirley and Laurence. He was her brother now and family always came first. She could hear footsteps on the tiled floor and the bolts being shot back. The door creaked as it opened.
Chapter Twelve
Colin Mallory’s office was large, plush and filled with antiques. The walls were lined with bookcases which were crammed with expensive-looking leather-bound tomes, and the floor was carpeted in best quality Axminster. Ginnie knew this for a fact as her father had won the contract for re-laying the flooring in the offices the year before the war changed their lives forever. He had talked about little else for weeks and her mother had boasted about it to her friends. Shirley had said that it was as if they had received the Royal Warrant and had been foolish enough to pass this witticism on to Livvie, who had immediately repeated it to her mother. Somehow it had travelled full circle through the grapevine and Mrs Martin had relayed it to Mildred, who had been furious and had not spoken to Shirley for a whole week.
Ginnie stood in front of the golden oak pedestal desk that would have impressed the wealthiest client, and her feet sank into the thick pile of the carpet as she waited for Laurence’s father to acknowledge her presence. His clerk had shown her into the inner sanctum, but Mallory was obviously going to make her wait while he read through a long document.
He signed it with a flourish and replaced the cap on his fountain pen. With studied slowness he set it down on a silver inkstand and raised his head to give her a frosty look. ‘If you’ve come to extort more money from me, you’re wasting your time.’
‘Actually that is exactly why I’m here,’ Ginnie said calmly. ‘But it’s not for me.’
His features contorted with anger. ‘I suppose that bitch of a sister put you up to this. Well, I’m not giving her anything, nor am I going to have anything to do with her or her little bastard.’
The temptation to tell him exactly what she thought of him was almost too strong to resist, but Ginnie was not going to let him get to her. She met his stony stare, refusing to be cowed. ‘That’s not why I’m here, Mr Mallory. I came to tell you that Laurence has been discharged from the Navy as being medically unfit and he needs to see a specialist.’
‘Huh!’ Mallory managed to emphasise the exclamation so that it spelled out contempt and derision. ‘Do you expect me to fall for that old chestnut?’
‘Laurence has a shadow on one of his lungs. He must have further tests, and he could be seriously ill.’
‘If you’re lying . . .’
Ginnie leaned both hands on the highly polished edge of the desk. ‘D’you think I’d come here and suffer insults from you if it weren’t absolutely necessary?’
‘Why didn’t Laurence come? If he needs my help he should be standing where you are now.’
‘Doesn’t that tell you something, Mr Mallory? Your son won’t ask you for a penny, which is why I put myself through this embarrassing ordeal. I don’t like you any more than you like me, but you are Laurence’s father. Could you live with yourself if he died for want of proper medical attention?’
‘What is this mystery illness? I want to know what I’m paying for.’
‘This isn’t a game, Mr Mallory. The doctors think it’s tuberculosis.’
He was silent for a moment, and then he nodded slowly. ‘All right. I’ll pay his medical bills but I’m not giving him a penny in cash. I know a good chap in Harley Street who was a client of mine before the war.’ He uncapped his pen and scribbled something on a notepad. Tearing off a sheet he handed it to her. ‘Ring that number and mention my name. Make an appointment for Laurence and have the account sent to me.’
‘Thank you,’ Ginnie said simply. She slipped the paper into her handbag and left the office without another word. Colin Mallory was a hateful man but she had seen the look in his eyes when she mentioned the dreaded disease that killed indiscriminately. She had found his Achilles heel – he loved his son. Perhaps there was hope for him and for Laurence and his growing family.
Ginnie made her way back to the shop and found Olivia waiting for her. ‘What do you want, Livvie?’ she demanded crossly. ‘I’ve had enough of your family for one day.’
‘I know that you went to see Daddy. I was in the office when you phoned for an appointment. So how much did you sting him for, shop girl?’
‘I don’t think that’s any of your business, and calling me shop girl isn’t an insult, which I’m sure it was meant to be.’
Jimmy had been hovering nearby but he moved swiftly to stand beside Ginnie. ‘Shall I throw her out, miss?’
Livvie looked him up and down, curling her lip. ‘Is this your bodyguard, Ginnie? You could have done better. This chap couldn’t punch his way out of a paper bag,’
‘Leave him alone,’ Ginnie said angrily. ‘Say what you like about me but I won’t allow anyone to be rude to my staff.’
‘Your staff?’ Livvie glanced round the shop floor where a couple of female customers were examining a utility wardrobe while casting surreptitious looks in their direction. ‘Who d’you think you are, shop girl? You’re not exactly Gordon Selfridge, are you?’
Ginnie turned to Jimmy, who was sweating profusely and mopping his brow with a duster. She laid her hand on his arm. ‘Go and see if the ladies over there are interested in buying something, there’s a good chap.’ She waited until he was out of earshot. ‘Look, Livvie, I don’t know why you’re here but I haven’t anything to say to you. If you want to make a purchase then go ahead, if not I’d be grateful if you’d go away and leave me to get on with my job.’
‘I want to know what’s going on. Were you trying to get more money from my father? If so I hope he told you where to go.’
‘I think you’d better ask him,’ Ginnie said wearily. ‘I haven’t got time to play these silly games, Livvie. Some of us have a living to earn, so if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get on.’ She was about to walk away but Livvie stepped in front of her.
‘If it wasn’t about money, it must have had something to do with Laurence. Believe it or not I love my brother and if there’s something wrong I want to know. Has that bitch left him already?’
‘That bitch as you call her is my sister, and no, it’s got nothing to do with Shirley.’
‘Then it must be Laurence.’ Livvie
caught her by the wrist. ‘I’m not leaving until you tell me.’
Ginnie looked her in the eyes and realised that her concern was genuine. ‘You’ll have to ask your father, or, better still, come to my house and see Laurence. Make it up with him. Life’s too short to fall out with family.’
Livvie released her with an exclamation of disgust. ‘Don’t preach to me, shop girl. Tell Laurence if he wants to see me, he knows where I live.’ She stalked off, pushing past Jimmy and the two ladies who had seemingly lost interest in purchasing anything and were openly staring at her.
Ginnie shook her head and went into the office to telephone home.
Laurence emerged from the consulting room after a long session with the consultant. Ginnie put the copy of Country Life magazine back on the table and rose to her feet. She had taken the morning off to accompany him to Harley Street as Shirley was suffering badly from morning sickness and felt too ill to make even a short journey. ‘Well?’ she said in a low voice. ‘What did he say?’
He shook his head. ‘The doc took a culture and a sample of my spit, only he called it sputum, but we won’t know the results yet.’
‘Did he tell you anything?’
Laurence plucked his trilby from the coat stand. ‘He thinks it’s TB.’
‘Oh, Laurence, I’m so sorry.’ Ginnie slipped her hand through the crook of his arm.
‘It’s all right. I was prepared for it. The Navy medic said much the same thing, but we’ll have to wait for the tests to come back to be absolutely certain.’
‘What then?’
‘I’ll have to go to a sanatorium far away from the city smoke. It’ll mean a long stay and total bed rest, although apparently there’s a new drug that they’re trying out which has been very successful so far.’ He opened the waiting-room door and held it for Ginnie to go out into the office where the prim receptionist sat behind her desk.
‘Goodbye, Mr Mallory,’ she said, smiling.
‘Goodbye, and thank you.’
Laurence sounded cheerful but Ginnie sensed that he was more upset than he would care to admit and she hurried him onto the landing and into the waiting lift. It rattled and clanged its way down to the ground floor where it juddered to a halt. Laurence slid back the metal gate. ‘Let’s get out of here. I hate these places but I suppose I’ll have to get used to them from now on.’
‘You survived the war and the mine that sunk your ship,’ Ginnie said, making an effort to lighten the moment. ‘You’ll get through this, Laurence, and we’re all behind you.’ She crossed the marble-tiled entrance hall and opened the front door. It was a relief to go outside and take a breath of fresh air cooled by a recent rain shower. The slightly sooty smell of the West End mingled with the pungent scent of crushed geranium petals from a flower head that had been picked or accidentally knocked off one of the plants in the window box and trodden underfoot. The scarlet petals lay like blood on the wet paving stone and Ginnie shuddered as a cold shiver ran down her spine. She glanced at Laurence and was alarmed to see how pale he looked with dark shadows underlining his blue eyes. ‘Let’s find a teashop and have a nice hot cuppa and a toasted teacake or a sticky bun. You must be starving because you ate hardly anything at breakfast.’
A faint smiled curved his generous lips and he squeezed her hand. ‘Always the practical one, Ginnie. I don’t know what we’d do without you.’
‘It’s just common sense. You’ll feel better when you’ve had something to eat. Let’s go to Lyons Corner House, Tottenham Court Road. I used to love that place when I was a kid and Dad took us there for a treat. I remember having a Knickbocker Glory and feeling terribly sick as we travelled home on the Green Line bus in a pea-souper.’
‘Happy days,’ he said, chuckling.
The results came back positive and the consultant insisted that Laurence needed urgent admission to hospital, but this would incur considerable costs. This time it was Laurence who went to see his father. What passed between them Ginnie could only imagine but she began to revise her opinion of Colin Mallory when he agreed to fund his son’s treatment, although he still refused to have anything to do with Shirley and her child. They were given a list of sanatoriums and all of them were far from London. With a view to making it possible for the family to visit Laurence, they chose one in Shropshire which was within reasonable reach of Avril’s pub in Lightwood Common.
Arrangements were made and events moved swiftly. One moment Ginnie had been drinking tea and sharing a toasted teacake with Laurence in Lyons Corner House and shortly afterwards she was saying goodbye to him, but this time Shirley was travelling with him. She had been reluctant to leave Colin for a second time, but Mildred had insisted that she ought to accompany her husband on what might be his final journey. Ginnie had blenched at her mother’s tactlessness, but her words had had the desired effect and Shirley set off, planning to spend the night at the Ferryboat Inn and to return the next day.
Ginnie waved them off from the front door, hoping that Laurence would soon be cured and able to return home. Even so, she realised that it would be many months before he was able to earn a living and the responsibility for supporting his family was hers and hers alone. She set off for the shop, mulling over her plans to take over Fred’s business in the New Year. With extra floor space she intended to expand her stock of soft furnishings and open a linen department. She would need more staff, but she would worry about that if and when her application to take over the lease was approved by the council.
Almost without realising it she had arrived at the shop and to her dismay she found Livvie waiting for her. ‘If you’ve come to have a row you’re going to be disappointed,’ she said coldly. ‘I’m too busy to waste my time arguing with you.’
Livvie scowled ominously. ‘I’m not here for my own benefit.’
‘I’m sure this isn’t a social call. What can I do for you?’
‘My father insisted that I offer my services. He said it’s time I started living in the real word, and my punishment for costing him the money he gave you was to work here.’
‘He didn’t give me anything. The payment was to cover the damage you did to my shop.’
Livvie shrugged her shoulders. ‘He hasn’t forgiven me for it and now he’s got to fund my brother’s hospital treatment, so as usual I’m the one who’s got to suffer. Laurence was always the favourite.’
‘Why would he want you to work for me? He knows you hate my family.’
‘It’s all part of his vendetta against me. Personally I’d rather work down a sewer than serve in a bloody shop.’
‘I can’t afford to take on more staff at the moment, so that lets you off the hook very nicely.’
‘No it damn well doesn’t. He said I’d have to work for nothing if you couldn’t afford to pay me, and if I didn’t get a job here I’d have to move out and find myself somewhere else to live.’
Ginnie eyed her thoughtfully. ‘Are you really prepared to do unpaid work?’
‘It doesn’t look as if I’ve got much choice. My father doesn’t make idle promises.’
‘I think I could find something for you to do.’ Ginnie was beginning to enjoy herself. It was high time that someone put Olivia Mallory in her place. ‘All things considered I can hardly refuse such a kind offer.’
‘You bitch. You’re laughing at my expense.’
‘Frankly, yes, I am. But setting our differences aside, you might be of some use to me. You could bring in customers from your set who would normally go up West to shop.’
‘Do you really think I’d let my friends know that I’m stuck here because it’s my father’s way of getting back at me for what was just a prank?’
‘I wouldn’t call it that. It was vandalism pure and simple.’
‘All right, don’t go on about it. Is it yes or no?’
‘It’s up to you,’ Ginnie said carelessly. ‘But if you’re serious, you could do something to help Laurence.’
Livvie shot her a suspicious glance. ‘How do you wor
k that out?’
‘I have to support his wife and child while he’s in hospital and Shirley’s expecting again. If you help me expand the business you’ll be helping your sick brother, and you might even get something out of it yourself.’
‘I won’t be here long enough to make a difference,’ Livvie said sulkily. ‘You’ll sack me soon enough.’
‘And what would your father say to that?’ Ginnie angled her head. ‘I don’t think he’d be too pleased.’
Jimmy had been serving a customer, but with the transaction completed he hurried over to Ginnie. ‘Is she giving you trouble, miss? I told her she wasn’t welcome but she wouldn’t budge.’
‘It’s all right, Jimmy. This is our new assistant, Miss Mallory. Livvie, meet Jimmy Fitzwilliam, my most loyal member of staff. He’ll show you what to do and how to work the till.’
Jimmy stared at Livvie as if afraid she was going to take a bite out of him. ‘I’ll do what I can.’
She tossed her head. ‘I don’t take orders from you, so get that clear.’
‘Yes, you do,’ Ginnie said simply. ‘Now I’ll put the kettle on and we’ll have a cup of tea, or do you prefer coffee, being posh? I think there’s a bottle of Camp coffee somewhere.’
‘You’re determined to make my life hell, aren’t you?’
‘No. Actually, I think we might do well together if you jump off that high horse. There’s more to running a shop than serving customers. I’ve never forgotten what I saw of your house, and I know you’re used to living with nice things around you. I think that you might have a talent for window dressing and setting up displays.’
Livvie stared at her in astonishment. ‘Why are you being nice to me? I tried to wreck your beastly shop and I’ve been horrible to your sister.’
